


what the hell are emojis anyway?

by lonelydoctors



Series: i always come when you call (& dean will always call for cas) [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Dean not so much, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Matchmaker Sam Winchester, Texting, also cas is a heavy emoji user, basically dean accidentally sends a text to cas confessing, cas is a confused bean, dean reaalllllly has a thing for cowboys, they reunite and love is in the air
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:07:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28508685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonelydoctors/pseuds/lonelydoctors
Summary: 😘read 10:55pmHis breath catches in his throat and Dean’s sure his heart just skippedseveralbeats.“…What…?” he whispers to himself and grips the phone tight, trying to make sense of it. Why would Cas even respond to that? And why would he respond like…like that? And when the hell did he learn about emojis? What’s that little kissy face supposed to tell him anyway?Or: Dean accidentally confesses his love for Cas via text
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: i always come when you call (& dean will always call for cas) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2086332
Comments: 11
Kudos: 176





	what the hell are emojis anyway?

**Author's Note:**

> > cas is me when i text 

That _damned_ cowboy hat really was the final nail in his coffin. It’s over, he should just end it all now, this is going to end in flames, he just knows it. In hindsight, it’s probably been one of Dean’s worst ideas yet to have Cas dress up as a cowboy. But foresight’s never really been one of his strong points.

He groans and drags his hands across his face, pinching his own cheeks. Why does it have to be Cas, of all people? He’s not even _human_ , he’s a freaking angel for god’s sake (pun definitely unintended) – _of course,_ Dean has to go and fall in love with a supernatural being, what else was it ever going to be for him? At the very least it’s not a demon, so that’s something, he supposes.

“Hey Dean, dinner’s ready, come on!” Sam calls up from the kitchen and Dean rolls over onto his stomach, burying his face in his pillow.

“A minute, Sammy,” he yells, and thinks about last night’s dinner made by the man haunting his dreams. Honestly, keeping track of Cas’ ever-changing interests and hobbies has been…challenging to say the least, but Dean has to admit, cooking definitely turned out to be one of his stronger suits.

Cas’ risotto last night was amazing, it looked annoyingly like the photo on the recipe he used and tasted even better. Dean doesn’t think he’s ever eaten anything more delicious in his entire life, and coming from a guy who could probably live off pie for the rest of his life, that’s certainly saying something.

 _Awesome_ , Dean thinks and groans again, _I’m not only gay for an angel but also in love with an incredible cook_. What’s not to like? ( _Oh, right_ , Dean huffs, _maybe the_ _fact that Cas doesn’t feel the same for me, and probably, isn’t even technically able to._ )

Sometimes, Dean wonders how not everyone who knows him falls in love with Cas, he wonders how Sam can just chill with him in the archives for hours upon hours, when he can barely even take his gaze for more than a full minute without succumbing to the urge to kiss him.

Without looking up, Dean reaches for his phone on the nightstand and rolls onto his side. He ignores the low-battery warning and navigates to the messaging app. Flying over the keyboard, he starts typing and lets his fingers do the work, lets his heart lead the way, and he smiles, at his phone, at his love, until he’s staring at his heart on a screen, forced into words.

It’s a weird and inappropriate rush of adrenaline, seeing it so open, so vulnerable, right below Cas’ name, right there in their familiar chat, and he wonders how Cas would look like opening the message, on a phone Dean gave him, typing a reply, with a skillset Dean taught him, and his heart starts beating faster.

Of course, he could never send it, that would ruin everything. They’d probably lose Cas for good, or at the very least make things unbearably awkward between the two of them. And then Sam would notice and he’d have to tell him, all of it, and between this and suffering in peace and quiet, Dean’s got an easy choice.

“Dean!” Suddenly the door to his room flies open and Dean drops his phone in surprise. Sam shoots him an angry look and huffs, “Dinner. Now.”

Just as sudden as his arrival, Sam takes off again and shuts the door behind him with a loud bang. Dean shakes his head and reaches for his phone, ready to force the words back into his heart.

He looks at the screen and his jaw drops. Everything looks the same as it did a second ago, except for one tiny little detail – the colour of the bubble changed. Dean checks and double-checks again and again, but he can’t deny the obvious.

He sent the message. To Cas.

**i miss you so much i can’t stop thinking about you i can’t stop thinking about kissing you and tbh im pretty sure i love you**  
_sent 09:17pm_

Immediately, Dean thrusts his phone at the bed like it burnt him, and just stares at it like it will continue to do so if he looks away. His heart beats in his throat and it feels awfully stuffy and hot in his room and he hopes that if he pinches himself hard enough, maybe he will wake up and realise this has all been a dream.

Eventually, he has to face facts and accept reality, but when goes to pick up his phone and turns it over, he finds the screen black. He pushes a few buttons and curses quietly under his breath as he realises that the battery must have died. Why can he _never_ charge his things on time, goddamnit.

“Dean!” Sam calls again, and he sounds really pissed now, so Dean quickly plugs his phone in to charge and hurries down the stairs. (He’s kinda glad he doesn’t have to worry about the consequences for the time being).

o o o

Dean's probably never eaten slower in his entire life and Sam kept giving him side-eyes when he kept chewing the same bite for half an eternity. But when he can’t delay the inevitable any longer, Dean drags his feet up to his room and glances at his phone with a feeling of dread in his stomach.

He pushes the button and the screen lights up, alerting him of one new message.

Dean can feel his dinner do a somersault in his stomach and feels like he’s going to be sick when he realises that it’s a message from Cas, but he takes a deep breath and sinks down onto his bed, unlocking his phone.

😘  
_read 10:55pm_

His breath catches in his throat and Dean’s sure his heart just skipped _several_ beats.

“…What…?” he whispers to himself and grips the phone tight, trying to make sense of it. Why would Cas even respond to that? And why would he respond like…like _that_? And when the hell did he learn about emojis? What’s that little kissy face supposed to tell him anyway?

Dean moans and squeezes his eyes shut. He definitely hates emojis for a reason, they’re either useless or annoyingly unclear when people use them to replace, you know, actual words.

After several minutes of just staring at the the kissing emoji, like he can intimidate it into giving him a proper reply, Dean scoffs and puts his phone away.

Only seconds later, however, his phone beeps and the screen lights up, informing him of a new message. Dean swallows hard and clenches his jaw. He knows this is going to be Cas, apologising for the previous message, explaining that he sent it by mistake because he hasn’t figured his phone out yet.

He mentally scolds himself for being such a wimp and reaches for his phone. Better to get it over with as quick as possible.

 **Good Night, Dean** 😴  
_read 11:21pm_

He reads, and re-reads, and reads again, but the words don’t change and the message stays the same. This doesn’t make sense. They don’t usually text much, mostly because Cas never really got the hang of it, but also because…well, to be honest Dean isn’t sure why. They just don’t.

And they definitely don’t waste their time wishing each other good nights and good mornings and whatnot.

Yet, reading Cas’ good night message makes a weird feeling grow in his stomach, that makes Dean feel like a little boy with his first crush. It’s ridiculous and pathetic and he should just ignore everything that happened today.

What he does instead, however, is hug his phone close and remember Cas’ sleepy face from the brief time when he was human, when he’d need sleep as much as Dean does, when Dean would hope, in the middle of the night where no one could see, that they’d grow old together.

He shakes his head abruptly and snaps out of it. This was all in the past. Now Cas is back in heaven, back to being an angel, and even though god knows what time it is where Cas is right now (or if time even exists there), Dean can’t stop himself from texting back.

**night cas**  
_sent 11:43pm_

o o o

**Good Morning** 😘  
_read 08:48am_

Dean wakes up the next morning to a message from Cas. He feels a wave of emotions wash over him when he realises that Cas must be keeping track of the time on earth in order to send those texts.

He sent another one of those kiss emojis and Dean kind of wants to punch his phone, kind of wants to kiss the screen. That’s Cas for you, supernatural being deluxe and angel of the lord, yet still mastering the art of sending ambiguous unclear text messages.

Dean glances at the time, curses, and quickly types out a reply before he gets dressed in a rush and hurries outside where Bobby and Sam are already waiting for him.

**yeah you too**  
_sent 09:12am_

He ignores the fact that, unlike Cas apparently, he doesn’t know what time of the day it is for Cas right now. Because it’s weird to think about a place with no time, and because it makes him feel distant.

o o o

It’s been two days since Dean’s last text and he’s just about to go to bed when all of sudden his phone beeps. Without even looking Dean knows it’s from Cas.

He expects bad news, good news, an emergency, a flurry of emojis – to be honest, he’d been prepared for anything except for what he actually finds when he opens the message – a photo of Cas himself, a crease between his brows and his hand caught mid-wave.

It takes Dean a second to realise that he’s looking at a _selfie_ of Cas. Granted, it’s not a very good one, the angle is awful, Cas isn’t even looking at the camera but instead at the screen of his phone and the lighting is terrible. (If even heaven itself can’t get the lighting right, then what hope is there for bloggers…?)

Dean’s heart aches and it’s only now that he realises how much he misses seeing Cas’ face. His eyes follow the shape of his nose, the edge of his cheekbones, linger on his lips, and he feels a pleasant warmth spread inside his chest.

He inspects the photo a bit closer and notices the dark shadows under Cas’ eyes and the weariness behind them, and his smile drops a little. Right now, Cas is _upstairs_ , fighting a war for all of them, a war that’s probably more important than everything that ever happened and Dean knows, he knows that Cas is an angel and that there’s nothing he can do to help, but he finds himself worrying anyway.

Cas didn’t send anything besides the selfie, so Dean furrows his brows, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. He tries to think of an answer, but it’s hard and it’s terrifying, because he’s still so scared of misinterpretation, and still so scared of rejection.

Briefly, he thinks about replying with a selfie of his own, but he quickly dismisses that idea and starts typing instead. He wants to be able to back out, he _needs_ to be able to play it off as a joke and make all of this not real, so he can make the pain not real if he has to.

**how are you?**  
_sent 01:09am_

He scratches his head, thinks, types, deletes, and types again. He sends:

**be careful okay**  
_sent 01:11am_

Cas doesn’t reply, and Dean worries for hours on end until he finally sinks into an uneasy sleep.

o o o

In the morning he has several new texts and almost falls out of bed, trying to open them as quick as possible.

**Thank you, Dean. I will be back this evening.**  
_read 07:38am_

**How are you?**  
_read 07:38am_

😇😘🤠  
_read 07:38am_

The last row of emojis has Dean laughing out loud and he feels childish for the giddy excitement rising up in his stomach, for the fact that he can’t stop his lips from smiling and the way his heart instantly beats a beat faster. Cas is coming home.

Dean texts back before he can even think about it. He’s still half-asleep, incredibly impatient and drunk on love and, for once, he doesn’t overthink it.

**can’t wait!!**  
_sent 07:39am_

😘  
_sent 07:39am_

After the original excitement passes and the adrenaline fades, Dean’s left with a massive amount of nerves, because, as he realises belatedly, seeing Cas again also means confronting whatever the hell it is they’ve been doing for the past few days. It means confronting his text, the one that started it all, and it means confronting his own feelings, and Dean’s sure not he’s ready for that quite yet.

o o o

“Hello, Dean.”

For the last few hours, Dean’s been anxiously waiting for Cas’ arrival, constantly shooting nervous glances at the clock trying to figure out what ‘evening’ meant for Cas, pacing the room until Sam yelled at him to sit the fuck down. And then it just happened.

Without warning, Cas appeared right there and then, in the middle of the room, all mysterious and majestic and so not-human, and the first thing he does is look at Dean.

“Cas…”

They keep staring at each other after that, and you could probably hear a needle drop, when Cas suddenly walks towards Dean. And he can’t even take a full breath before he feels cold lips on his, gently pressing against them.

Dean can practically hear Sam’s jaw drop, and to be fair his own would have probably dropped too, if it weren’t for the fact that his face was literally being held together by the, softer than excepted, hands of Cas, who’s currently kissing him.

Too taken aback to react, Dean just stands there like a pillar of salt, and he feels like flying, and he feels like drowning, but his body doesn’t move an inch and he feels like dying.

He tries to sear the exact feel of Cas’ lips on his into his brain.

After a few seconds, Cas pulls away and looks at Dean, his lips pursed and an expression of confusion in eyes.

“Was this not satisfactory?”

There’s silence as Cas’ question bounces off the walls and tumbles to the floor at Dean’s feet, a big messy pile of doubts and hopes and Dean can almost taste the fear lingering behind the words.

“I was, am, just…just surprised. Is all.” The words spill out of Dean’s mouth, he can’t get them out fast enough.

Cas tilts his head and moves back a few steps, drawing his brows closer together. “Surprised?”

Dean can only nod, still too shocked at the whole thing to form a coherent thought, let alone a proper sentence. He licks his lips and can still taste Cas on them.

“I just assumed that this was appropriate. Isn’t that what people do when they…when they love?”

Dean chokes on his own spit and he can hear Sam snorting with laughter behind them. He turns around and glares at him until Sam excuses himself and walks upstairs, still giggling.

When he turns back to Cas, Dean clears his throat and tries to regain his cool. “So…you feel that for me, huh?”

“Of course. I thought that was obvious.” Cas makes a little pause. “Do you?”

By now, Cas looks so confused and unsure of himself that Dean mentally slaps himself across the face. He takes a deep breath and closes the distance between them. “Shit, do I ever,” he mumbles before he leans down and places his lips on Cas’ for the second time that day.

(Before Dean goes to bed that night, he adds the cowboy emoji next to Cas’ name. His phone beeps. A new text from Cas 🤠.

♥️  
_read 11:59pm)_

**Author's Note:**

> cas is me when i talk to people  
> [tumblr](https://lonelydoctors.tumblr.com) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/lonelydoctorss)


End file.
